The Relativity of Normal
by Damelia Evenshire
Summary: A look in to life with Loki and his children. This story is where I dump all my feels, so don't be alarmed. The story is written in one-shots that are interconnected. There's no definitive plot as of yet, but that may change. Warnings are different for each segment, look inside for details. I've rated it M for reasons that will make themselves known when you read.
1. Perfect

**Hello! Welcome to my little story. If you have any requests for a new chapter, you're more than welcome to comment. My chapters will be based on ****your ideas****, so choose wisely! ****  
Perfect**

"Hela, Jor, Fenrir, Sleipnir! Dinner!" Loki called. Providing a meal for the five of them sometimes proved challenging, but Loki always managed. Fenrir, Jor and Sleipnir raced down the stairs, missing their half-back half-white sister.

Being children of Loki, they were all able to change their appearances to those of a human, but while Hela could as well, she had always had a hard time shape-shifting. Even when the boys were in human form, their food preferences stayed the same, which is what resulted in occasionally interesting dinners.

"Where's Hela?" he asked. He got three excellently timed shrugs as the boys began to eat. He couldn't help but smile as he went in search of Hela.

He knocked at her door. "Hela?" he asked quietly. He heard nothing. He opened the door and upon walking in, stopped. The smell of permanent markers was thick in the air, and there was a trail of discarded markers along her floor, leading to the bathroom. Picking one up, he found it completely dry. The bathroom door was closed. "Hela?" he called again. He opened the door and found Hela sitting on the floor.

She was dressed in next to nothing, a permanent marker in hands, angrily swiping it over the white half of her skin. She was now three-quarters black. She looked up guiltily as Loki sank to the floor beside her. She crawled in to his lap and, sitting cross-legged on his lap, cried. He clutched to her back tightly. "Why can't I be normal?" she sobbed. Loki held his little girl closer and stroked her back. "You're perfect, baby. You're just perfect." He soothed.

When she stopped crying, they pulled apart and she started self-consciously tracing her skin. "We're going to have to get this stuff off." He told Hela. The girl sniffled and nodded. He picked up a washcloth and, covering it in soap, gently scrubbed her skin.

It was very late in to the evening when the marker was gone. It left a faint black residue, but other than that it came of relatively well. Loki did his best to be gentle in scrubbing, but on certain areas he had to scrub harder. He tried not to wince every time Hela bit her lip. Once they were finally done, the twelve-year-old crawled in to bed and, without needing to be asked (because apparently pride _was _genetic) Loki held her tightly against him and sang her soft lullabies until she fell asleep. He kissed the top of her head.

"You're perfect." He whispered before leaving.


	2. Green Haired, Kinky Gay Boy

**Oh my Asgardian gods. I'm seriously considering not putting up, but if I do, then the next one makes no sense. This is how I envisioned A Nightmare Before Coming Out. In case you don't get my weird humour, this could be the worst way in the history of misfortunes to come out to your parents. Parent, in this case. So. Here goes.**

**Warnings: Alcohol, sexual references, swearing (because somehow I always thought of Jor swearing like a sailor)**

**Green Haired, Kinky Gay Boy**

Jor woke up with an absolutely astounding headache. "So you're finally up." A voice screamed in his ear. "Please, don't shout." He begged in a whisper. He opened his eyes and dad, Loki, was looking at him with worry he was trying to cover up. "What happened last night?" he whispered softly.

"You got absolutely shit-faced." he deadpanned. "And you're now experiencing an earth-shattering hangover." Loki let himself out. Jor closed his eyes and tried to figure out why dad was so mad. This had happened before, not often (he had a decent sense of control), and dad had been nothing but kind. What changed this time?

When he felt stable enough to get out of bed, dad was sitting at the kitchen table, doing some magic. "What else happened last night?" the sixteen year old asked. Dad looked up. "You're talkative when you're drunk." He starts. "I'm talkative sober." Jor points out. "Yes, that you are." "Who's Gabriel?" he asked. His stomach dropped. He couldn't have…he wasn't that stupid, even drunk… "A friend." He said cautiously while praying that he hadn't done what he thought he had. Loki hummed. "Do you ask all of your friends to fuck you?" he asked blankly. Jor sank in to a chair. _Shit._

"Look, dad, you said it yourself. I was completely—" "Do you ask all of your friends to make you scream?" Oh god. He had _not _said that. There was absolutely no way he would have said that, sober, drunk, dead or alive. Sure, a few of his friends knew he was gay. No biggie. People could probably see that just looking at him. But…oh god. He didn't want to believe what the evidence was clearly telling him: he had drunkenly told his father about one of his kinks. And he didn't even remember it. _OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH—_

"Whatever I said…just, forget about it. I don't even remember telling you any of this. Just please, _please_, forget about it. It doesn't matter." Jor begged. "I know it doesn't." Loki said quietly. "You're still my son." Jor looked up. "Not going to disown me for being a green-haired, kinky gay boy?" he asked, disbelieving. "What the hell?" Jor turned around. His twelve year old sister, Hela, had walked in just as he'd said that. Jor let his head slam in to the table and groaned.

Jor didn't call Gabriel. He didn't want to accidently have this problem again. Gabriel and he were boyfriends, but neither actually wanted to come out. So they made an agreement with Amora Carson and Denise Jenson. The two girls would act as their girlfriends. This worked out for them all. When Amora Carson staged a big break-up (she was interested in the football captain, and they both agreed that the agreement could be terminate, on the condition that the break up was extraordinarily theatrical). And that was the end of Amora Carson.

Or so he thought.

**Was it that bad? R&R!**


	3. Do No Harm

**Okay. *Takes deep breath* this is the segment I'm really afraid to post because wow. I wrote this in twenty minutes of sick inspiration. I'm not too proud of how I came up with the idea for this, but...here goes.**

**Warnings: Self-harm, arguing.**

**Do No Harm**

Jor wasn't unfamiliar with being on the bad end of a breakup. If anything, he could be poster boy for the bad end of a breakup. But when the relationship between he and Gabriel began to splinter, he panicked. He lost control of urges he'd long since managed to swallow. Which is how he found himself sitting on the floor of his bedroom with a knife in his hands.

He hadn't cut himself in three months and ten days. He kept track because he found it made him feel better. He didn't hesitate to carve deep slices in to his arm. He all but cried from the relief it brought. Too long. It had been too long. With the relief came pain and guilt. He pushed back the guilt with more pain. Before long, his arm was a red mess.

When he felt like he wasn't going to cry, he got himself to the bathroom down the hall and set to cleaning the cuts. He already knew how. He cleaned it up and dabbed away the blood. When he was done healing them, he made sure there was no blood left. Loki had the eyes of a hawk, and Fenrir could smell blood.

He felt an incredible wave of shame as he came downstairs. When he'd first started, he'd gotten himself in to, through, and out of the mess. It hurt, it made him cry himself to sleep some nights, but he'd gotten through it stronger. He suspected dad knew, and if the day came that he ever asked, he would tell the truth. But he didn't, and so he kept his mouth shut.

Since Fenrir could smell blood, Jor already made his preparations. Step one: sit close to Hela and far from Fenrir. If he picked up on the scent, he could blame Hela for being a girl. It paid off to have a sister, sometimes. Step two: sit far from Loki. Loki could practically smell lies, and it got better the closer he was. Step three: wrap the arm tightly. Which lead to the inevitable step four, wear long-sleeved shirts.

So Jor got through dinner without a hitch. Fenrir didn't even notice, so Jor was just fine. Better than fine. He was on cloud nine.

Every cloud has its silver lining.

Somehow, he hadn't added doing the dishes in to his calculations. And so he faced the sink, frustrated that his plan had gone so well, only to flop now. So he pushed up his sleeve as far as he could and got the dishes done quickly.

Jor did his own laundry, so that wasn't an issue. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get this pesky bloodstain out of his favorite shirt. And it was right on the sleeve, which would lead to some awkward questions. He had two options: part with the shirt, or ask dad. He sighed and looked at the beloved garment. It was a _really _comfy shirt.

"Dad?" Jor asked, stomping down to the basement. Loki looked up from his spell. "Yes?" "I have a stain and I can't get it out." He said plaintively. "Bring it here." Loki said. Jor handed him the shirt and Loki pulled on his left arm. Loki gave a triumphant smile as Jor winced. "Dad, what—" "How long has it been since last time?" Loki asked. "Three months." Jor's mouth went before his brain. Loki nodded thoughtfully. "How many?" he asked. "I don't count." He lied. Perhaps if he believed hard enough, Loki might not pick it up.

However, his father simply raised an eyebrow. "How many?" he asked again. Jor sighed. "Eight deep, six shallow." He answered. "Can you get the stain out of the shirt?" he pressed. "If you promise you won't do it again." Loki bargained. Jor didn't even realise that he was hissing. "Fine." He spat. He turned to leave when he heard the door lock, as if of its own will.

He knew better. "Dad, please. The door." He said. "Not until you explain yourself." Loki didn't even look up from his book. "Dad!" Jor shrieked. "Yes, I'm right here." Loki closed the book. "Open it!" he yelled, still rattling the door handle. "Why did you cut yourself?" he asks. Jor kicked the door in frustration. "Open it!" he repeated. Loki grabbed his shoulders. "Tell me!" He yelled.

It was not uncommon for Jor and Loki to yell at each other when frustrated. It happened more often than with any of his other children. Jor was the kind of person who got upset, yelled away his frustrations and felt better about it later. Loki was usually very calm, but when he and Jor got to arguing, it was as if they were the only ones in the world and they had to finish their argument before they could get on with their lives.

"It doesn't matter." Jor said through gritted teeth. Loki backed up. Jor wasn't lying. This scared Loki more than anything. It had to matter. "Yes it does, Jormungandr." Loki almost never used Jor's full name. It was like the unspoken rule of not calling dad Loki. It just didn't happen. Not unless one or the other was extremely angry. And usually, they knew where their limits were and didn't cross them. Usually.

Loki brought his hand up to tenderly stroke Jor's cheek. "Tell me you matter to yourself." He pleaded softly. Jor chewed his lip. "Yes, I do." The lie all but choked him. Loki let the door open and Jor left, normally loud footsteps quiet.

Jor went to his room quietly, thoughts on the knife in his night table. Sleipnir was sitting on his bed, said knife on his lap. A pair of green eyes flicked upwards. He sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. "Jor, I…" Sleipnir asked. "Don't." he hissed. "Just…leave." He said. It didn't escape Jor that Sleipnir took the knife with him. Jor locked the door and looked for something else harp and found nothing. He decided he'd settle for his fingernails. He dug them in to the cuts he had and let himself bask in the pain.

He never did get his shirt back.

"Dad." Sleipnir went to the basement. He held up a knife. "I found this in Jor's room." He said, sounding mildly concerned. "Yeah. I know." Loki said flatly. "Well?" Sleipnir demanded. "Well, what?" Loki asked. He was deeply immersed in a spell. To anyone else, Loki was being an ignorant father. In reality, he had just removed all the sharp items from Jor's room. He was the reason Sleipnir had found the knife in Jor's room.

"Aren't you going to do something?" Sleipnir demanded. "I already am, Sleipnir. Don't worry." "Don't worry. Don't worry?" he demanded incredulously. "I'm doing the best I can here." Loki said. "Then do better." Sleipnir turned and slammed the door behind him, leaving Loki to wonder if he'd helped or harmed the situation.

Jor heard the exchange between Sleipnir and dad and could already feel the guilt crashing down, swarming him. He wanted to hurt, _needed _to hurt. And there wasn't anything sharp. His nails weren't doing it. He kept trying, though, and managed to wreck his still delicate arm. The blood on his arm felt good, and he didn't want to wash it off, but he also didn't want to wash off the carpet.

The door opened without warning. It barely registered in Jor's mind. All that was there was a simple need for _hurt_. The door slammed closed and his hand was ripped away from his arm. He gave a whimper. "Please, please, just once more and I'll stop I promise just _please _I need it." he begged. "You don't need to hurt, darling. You don't deserve it, I swear." Jor felt Loki's arms wrap around him. But there were only two things Jor could feel: numbness, and that craving for pain.

"I don't want you to bleed." Loki whispered in to his ear. "I just – I don't –" "It's alright." Loki soothed. Jor let himself melt in his father's arms. He continued to whisper 'I'm sorry' over and over again.

Whether he was sorry enough to stop, only time would tell.


	4. The Return of Amora Carson

**Amora Carson returns! I based Amora off of Amora the Enchantress.**

**Warnings: Swearing, heart-break.**

**The Return of Amora Carson**

The Liesmith noticed the changes in all his children: Hel's wrapping all three of her brothers around her little finger, Jor's punk behaviour and his interest in boys, Sleipnir's artistic talent and Fenrir's nearly unprecedented stubbornness.

It was Fenrir's sudden snap from childhood innocence to – and this really was the only way to describe it – adult stubbornness that spooked him. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when the change started or ended, but it came and stayed. And as if Fenrir's human appearance didn't already scream 'THOR', his actions made it all the more believable.

"So…who's Amora Carson?" Loki asked Jor. The green-haired boy looked up in mild alarm. "Amora? Carson?" he demanded. "Your brother has a crush on her." The expression on Jor's face went from confused to alarmed to angry in the span of two seconds. He cursed angrily in Norse.

"Short, blond hottie?" Jor clarified. "I haven't met her yet. And I thought you were gay." He shrugged. "I lean more towards bisexual these days. But _Amora Carson_." "_Yes_, Amora Carson. What is with this girl?" Loki demands. "Well…she was my girlfriend and we didn't end on good terms. _And _now she's taking it out on my brother." Loki pretended he couldn't smell the lie. Jor made the hissing sound he made when upset or threatened. Loki still wasn't sure if it was an instinctive response or a habit. He walked out of the kitchen muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'that freaking bitch of an enchantress'.

Loki nursed these thoughts as he watched Fenrir talking on the phone, supposedly with 'a friend from school who just so happens to be a girl who's helping me with an English project'. From what Jor had said about Amora, he wasn't that surprised that Fenrir was interested. Loki knew, from experience, that girls were persistent.

And so, it didn't surprise him when Fenrir came home one day and promptly announced that Amora Carson was no longer 'a friend from school who just so happen to be a girl who's helping me with an English project' but 'girlfriend.'

Loki personally gave it two weeks.

Fenrir was ridiculously giddy with excitement. This made Loki happy, of course, and after meeting Amora he wondered if this would last longer. She was a nice, polite girl with an A+ in mischievous smiles. Despite that, every time Amora approached Jor, he would seethe and hiss. Loki knew that Amora and Jor had been together for a negligible amount of time, and wondered if he was jealous.

Come Tuesday night, two weeks on the dot, Fenrir sank in to a chair and announced that they were through. Hela was the most help by casually saying, "I didn't really like her anyways. She would have made a bad sister-in-law." And though he was miserable, Fenrir couldn't help but laugh. "She really had a squeaky voice, didn't she?"

And that was finally the end of Amora Carson.

**So? Review!**


	5. Outlets

**I really don't know where I pulled this one out of. Wherever it is, it's not pretty. Ye be warned!**

**Warnings: Loss of control, some angst, anger.**

**Outlets**

Sleipnir, his eldest, had always had level-headed qualities. He broke up the fights between his brothers and answered all the questions Loki couldn't. Sleipnir was the one who would keep your secret until the day he died.

Most people who met him wouldn't think that he felt much anger. The truth was he got very angry, very fast. He almost never acted on it. He let out emotions through paint. So when it got too much, he would vanish in to his room, tie up his hair and paint. The members of Loki's family knew better than to interrupt him when he was painting. It was his safe haven, and would remain as so.

"Sleipnir! I did it! I did it!" Hela yelled, ripping the door to Sleipnir's room open. Sleipnir appreciated her abilities to sew. He would be proud of her while Loki was busy. "What?" Sleipnir demanded angrily, face splattered in red paint. "Sleipnir, look, I managed—" "Not now, Hel!" he yelled. "Door. Behind you." He snapped and turned back to his canvas. He didn't register Hela's look of hurt or the slamming of the door. His mind was absorbed in what he was feeling and all the paint he was going to need to let it out.

Hela stomped in to her room and flopped on to her bed. She let herself sob and scream. Sleipnir was supposed to be proud! Not mean!

Loki saw the exchange between Hela and Sleipnir. He hadn't been sure what he was expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn't that. Sleipnir was nothing but kind to his sister. He had never, ever, left her in tears. Her other brothers were too scared to make her upset. They knew she owned them. Loki padded up the stairs softly and had to decide which room to go to first. He didn't have a clue what had happened in Sleipnir's room. He chose to go to Hela first.

He knocked at her door quietly. "Hela?" "Go away!" she yelled, teary and upset. Loki ignored her and opened the door. He sat beside her and hugged her close. She cried in to his shoulder miserably. "Hush, what is it, baby?" He asked gently. All of his children appreciated the use of pet names, but each of them had restrictions. Hela wouldn't be called 'love'. Fenrir would not tolerate 'baby'. Jor didn't like 'sweetie'. Sleipnir didn't care.

"It—he—Sleipnir got all angry at me!" she yelled in between sobbing breaths. He held on to her tightly until she stopped crying. "I'm sorry." She smiled, feeling a lot better. "It's okay. Don't worry. I'll go check on your brother." He said.

He knocked on Sleipnir door. No answer. He opened it and took a step back. Sleipnir was staring at a canvas that took up the majority of his wall, trying to decide what it needed. Because something wasn't quite…right. "Sleipnir?" Loki tried again. He turned to look at his dad. There was red paint splattered across his face and his hands weren't recognisable.

"What is it?" Sleipnir snapped. "It's your sister. She was crying her eyes out in her bedroom." Loki said cautiously. "Yes, yes. I'll do it later." He said absentmindedly, figuring out what was missing and acting on it immediately. "Sleipnir? Can you understand what I'm saying?" Loki questioned. "I just…later, I'll do whatever it is later! Go away!" He snapped, waving his hand absently at the door. Loki bit his lip for a moment, then put both his hands on his son's face and turned him. "Sleipnir. Listen to me." Sleipnir turned his attention to his dad. "Dad…I…please, just let me paint." He begged. He was completely shocked to see Sleipnir looking about to cry. "Tell me when you're done." Loki said simply.

He was extraordinarily worried by Sleipnir's attitude. The boy was nothing but kind, and he wasn't sure he recognised the boy in his bedroom, painting away his problems.

An hour or so later, Sleipnir finally came down. His hands were scrubbed and so was his face. As soon as he got down the stairs, Hela hit him as hard as she could and ran back up to her room. Sleipnir looked from Loki to the empty spot where Hela had been standing and back to Loki again. "Um…" "You were painting. I'm not sure what happened next." He says. Sleipnir frowned at the ground for a moment before walking up the stairs again.

"Hela?" Sleipnir walked in to her room nervously. Hela was sewing at the machine furiously. "What?" she ground out. "What are you working on?" he sat down on the stool beside her machine. She hesitated. "The top I showed you last week." She says eventually. "The red one?" she nods. "Good. It'll bring out your eyes." He paused. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier, Hel." He says. "Why were you so mean?" she asks and hates how her voice sounds like that of a small child. She's eleven, not a baby.

"You know how when you're angry, you sew?" she nods. "I paint instead. I didn't want to be mean to you." He explains. "But…you're never angry. You're nice. You're calm." She protests. He laughs. "I'm like that because I let it out through painting." He tells her. Hela gets up from the machine and hugs him. He smiles in to the black part of her hair.

Loki watched quietly, and smiled when it was resolved.


	6. Author's Note

**Sorry for all the changes in the chapter! FanFiction was acting up and I chose to test the delete button…it worked…The plot hasn't changed, but there was something wrong with the chapters. Things shall resume as planned! -Damelia**


	7. The Game (Part One)

**The Game (Pt. 1)**

**Hello! I have returned! Homework is slowly…maybe not so slowly…taking over my life and that interrupted my writing. So…I'm giving you this! It should be three parts. Enjoy! I found it rather delectable to write. **

**WARNINGS: **

**NOTE: In case it's unclear, when I put the character's name in bold and then some text afterwards, like so:**

**Fen: **Hello!

**It means the characters are texting. In case it's unclear. **

"Dad?" Loki turned away from fiddling on his iPad – Fenrir didn't actually want to know what he was doing. Probably causing mischief via Internet, if he had to guess. "Yes?" he replies, tearing his attention away from the thin device. Fenrir looks at his feet. "Can I go to Uncle Thor's?" he mumbles. "Fenrir, you're going to have to speak up." Loki drawls in a sing-song tone. "Can I go to Uncle Thor's?" he repeats, louder this time. Loki stops dead.

"What for?" he asks blankly. "It's been a while." He answers. It's not actually a lie: Fen hasn't seen Thor in over three years. "I can call him." Loki eventually chokes out, as if the words leave a bitter taste in his mouth. "Thanks." Fen goes back to his room and locks the door. Okay. Step one: success. He pulls out his phone and texts Uncle Thor.

**Fenrir: **Dad said yes!

He waits anxiously for Thor to reply.

**Uncle Thor: **Good! I shall see you this week end, yes?

**Fenrir: **That's the plan, at least. He says he'll call.

**Uncle Thor: **In that case, it is as good as done.

**Fenrir: **Thanks again, Uncle.

**Uncle Thor: **It's no trouble.

Fenrir smiles and puts away his phone. He just needs to get his homework out of the way. That was Uncle Thor's only condition: if this affected his schoolwork at all, then the deal was off. _Science, we meet again. _He thought to himself as he set to study.

Loki really, really did not want to call Thor. He loved his children, he did, but he just didn't want to speak to his brother. Almost destroying Asgard, severely damaging Midgard, sympathising with Frost Giants, nearly getting the Allfather killed, lying, scheming, throwing yourself off a bridge to then try and destroy Midgard twice could really put a rift between two people. He put his hand on the phone, determined to just get it over with it, and chickened out at the last minute. He loved his children, he did, but…

"Fen! You can call Thor!" Loki called.

And in the end, Fenrir arranged to stay the week end with Thor and Jane. Loki didn't know why Fenrir suddenly felt the urge to go to New Mexico for the week end, but he's long reasoned that teenaged boys are weird.

The weekend, minus Fenrir, is admittedly a little strange. Instead of calling down four misfits it's three, which changes the balance a little. It also means that the final choice when it comes to movie searching is left to Hela and Jor, because Sleipnir and Loki could care less. Hela and Jor are like two forces of nature. And, because Hela is forever the princess who always gets what she wants, Jor wins. Jor takes small victories: Hela takes the big ones. Which is why playing cards with them is pointless. So all in all, the weekend was very relaxing for the Lokison (and Lokidottir) brood.

Nothing like that went down for Fenrir and Thor.

**So? Like it? Review!**


	8. The Game (Part Two)

**The Game: Part Two**

**Good evening, fellow FanFictionees! Here is The Game, part two. Enjoy!**

The approach of summer brought different reactions from everybody. Sleipnir got excited because this meant more time to paint, and he might have a chance to start sculpting, something he'd had his eye on for a while. Jor could not stand the heat, so he hid himself in an air-conditioned room at every given opportunity. Hela adored the summer. It gave her a chance to not be such a tomboy in her clothing, because during the summer, she could wear revealing clothing without getting frostbite and risk marring her pretty porcelain skin. This might be why Jor and Loki didn't like summer.

Or because Jor and Loki simply couldn't tan.

Fenrir, however, was by far the one enjoying warm weather the most. Almost every week end, he was at Thor's. Loki didn't ask: he still couldn't pick up the phone and call his brother. And besides, he trusted Fenrir. Thor and Jane lived out in New Mexico, but Loki had no objections to Fenrir practising magic. Sleipnir had his theories, but he figured they were apparent and didn't voice them. Jor was too busy avoiding sunlight like a vampire to notice, and Hela was too busy trying to coax Jor in to a tan to notice.

But whenever Fen came back from Thor's, he was stiff, bruised, sore and far too happy for his own good. Loki simply didn't understand, but he liked to think Fenrir and Thor had enough collective brain matter to not seriously hurt themselves. And over time, he noticed that Fenrir started eating more Thor-sized portions and not a pound sticking to him. In fact, Fenrir was starting to build as much muscle as Thor had. He got the distinct feeling that something big was going on right under his nose, and he didn't like the sudden switch in positions.

Fenrir was stunned he'd gotten this far without dad, or anyone, noticing. Sure, Jor and Hela were too busy hating and loving the summer and dad didn't talk to Uncle Thor anymore, but surely Sleipnir must have noticed _something_! And yet, his older brother remained blissfully ignorant of Fenrir's idea come to life.

Fenrir's idea come to life was being on the school football team. This was a fantasy he'd long toyed with, and it had taken Uncle Thor to convince him. Because really, as soon as Thor landed on Midgard, all Darcy…and everyone else…could think about was how great he'd be at football. He was set to be a jock the second he hit earth. Thor and Fenrir spent the weekends training. In short, Thor took the piss out of Fenrir and Fenrir kept coming back for more. It had taken several months of rigorous training from the Thunder God, but…their first game was in two weeks.

He didn't tell anybody: it was his little secret. He already had a plan on how to tell them, one he'd devised with Darcy. And he already knew it was going to work out great.

"It is way too damn hot!" Jor exclaimed. The four of them looked up from their conversation. Despite their combined magic, all the skills they collected over the years, none of them could fix the air-conditioning. Hela didn't care: give her a glass of lemonade and a bikini and she could ignore the blistering heat.

Sleipnir was more concerned for his art then his own body temperature, and demanded that Loki share the much cooler basement with his paintings, some of them large enough to take up an entire wall. Fenrir was far too busy training with Thor in his every spare moment to care about something so menial. Loki just hid out in the basement as often as he could.

For Jor, it was a nightmare come to life.

He spent several hours every day trying to fix it, and every time he failed, he cursed at the abused machine and stormed off to the basement. There, he would pretty much curl up on the floor and appreciate the cold. He stubbornly refused to wear short-sleeved shirts, a habit he'd had since he was a young child (much to Hela's annoyance). "Why don't you take an ice bath?" Fenrir recommended, taking a spoonful of his new favorite food, peanut butter.

Jor's serpentine eyes lit up and he claimed all of the fridge's ice. He carried the freezing bundle up to the bathroom and locked the door. Fenrir didn't even look up from his homework (or peanut butter), but all three of them stared. Fenrir's usual response to Jor's complaining about the heat was to suck it up. He looked up. "What? I wanted him to shut up." He shrugs and goes back to his homework, leaving the other three in a state of shock.

An hour later, Jor came down, teeth chattering and hair soaked. "You a-a-are a gen-genius." Jor said through shivers. He gave Fenrir a shaky high-five. "You should try it, Hela. You won't need to dress like a stripper around the house anymore." Jor said when he could supress the shivers. Hela didn't even look up from her computer, and she managed to whip a very heavy book at him. Jor caught the book with some difficulty. "Hey, this is Sleipnir's book. He'll kill you if he finds out you've touched it." He warned. "I do what I want." She mocked absently, eyes focused on the screen.

"Have you seen _the Art Book_?" Sleipnir popped in to the living room. "Hela threw it at me." Jor handed him the book. "Hela! Don't throw my art books!" he scolded. "He called me a stripper!" she accused. "She dresses like one!" Jor threw back. "You heard me!" he looked to Fenrir to back him up. Fen just shrugs and checks his watch. "I've got to go." He left, without even sticking out to see where the argument would go, if anywhere.

Fenrir spent the rest of the day with Thor. Their first official game was in two weeks, and he doesn't want to disappoint. He didn't feel at all satisfied with how he was doing by the end of the day and practised twice as hard. This meant he was twice as exhausted when he got home and could barely stay awake to finish his oh-so-evil homework that was set on taking over his life.

But he wasn't so tired that he didn't understand when Hela announced, "I'm going to try out for the cheerleading squad this Friday."

Fenrir panicked. "What? Why? Cheerleaders are mean and prissy girls who don't like anybody! Believe me, I tried to date one. Actually, Jor and I both tried to date one!" Fenrir protested. "I've already made up my mind, Fenrir." Hela say in a tone that does not broker an argument. Fenrir makes a frustrated noise in his head. Everything was going so well! But if Hela's going to try out for a cheerleader…Well, she might not get it. Fenrir nurses his thoughts through dinner.

Friday comes. Fenrir can't quite crush the fear in his gut. He's terrified this won't work: that some of the guys of the team will recognise him. But he refuses to not be there for Hela: she's his little sister. And, if he can help it, he'd love to see that look on Amora's face when Hela presented herself.

Hela was incredibly excited. Sure she was nervous, but that was alright. Her friend Freya and she were trying out together. She was glad her brother was there: while she knew all her siblings loved her, Fenrir and she shared a special love of sports and physical activity, while the rest of the family was more arts-oriented. She spotted Amora Carson and smothered a growl. Freya noticed and smirked. "Just remember, she's cheer captain. You may not want to kill her." Freya suggested, tying up her amber-blond curls. Hela copied the action. "I'll try." She promised.

Fenrir sat near the back of the bleachers. Hela walked out on to the field and gave a discreet wave that Fenrir returned. "Hey, Fen! Didn't expect to see you here." So much for luck. Freyr, Freya's twin brother, was one of the biggest built guys in the entire school. He was also on the team. "Well, why turn down an opportunity to watch cheerleaders?" He laughed. "Oh, yeah. Hey! I think there's a new one. Check out that chick with the black and white hair." He pointed at Hela. Fenrir stayed silent.

"There's always Sigyn." He said neutrally, trying to get some attention of his little sister. She was _13 _for god's sake! Sigyn was just as pretty as any of the other cheerleaders, perhaps more innocent though. "Did you guys see the girl with black and white hair?" Leo and a few of the other guys came by. Fenrir was just about to pipe up that this was his _sister_, but then the girls started doing banana splits and he knew he had lost all hope of convincing them to not pay attention to his little sister.

"She's going to get in. And if she doesn't, I'm going to throttle Amora until she does." Leo announced soundly. "What about her friend there, the redhead?" "That's my _sister_." Freyr snapped. "Fine, fine." The boys continued arguing about who would or wouldn't get in until one by one, the girls go their names called. An almost religious silence settled while the girls showed themselves off.

"What's with the silence?" Somebody asked. "Sleipnir?" Fenrir demanded incredulously. "What are you doing here?" he asked his brother. "Our little sister is trying out to be a cheerleader." He said unnecessarily, sitting next to Fenrir. "Sister? Which one's your sister?" Freyr asked. "Hela. Over there." Sleipnir pointed her out. Freyr (and the other guys) gaped.

"You two," Leo pointed at them. "Are related…to her." He clarified. "How old is she?" Balder asked. "She's 13, and you'll keep your hands away from her." Fenrir snapped. At the mention of her age, the boys quieted and wondered whether or not it was worth going behind the football captain's back to meet this girl.

The tryouts finished 20 minutes later. Hela and Freya made their way to the boys. "Fen!" she exclaimed. She jumped up and hugged him. "Who are your friends?" she asked. She did not miss the way they looked at her. "Hela, these are Leo, Balder, Joss and Freyr. Boys, meet Hela. If you try and flirt with her, I will kill you." he warns. "Fenrir! Be nice, I'm sure your friends are polite enough to sweep me off my feet." She smirked. "Anyways, Hela and I are going out to celebrate. Care to join us?" Freya invited.

Fenrir was convinced that's the fastest they'd ever come to an agreement.

**That was fun. **

**Turns out this is probably going to be closer to four parts, not three like planned. I'm sorry I haven't added in a little while, and next week is exams, so…well, it's not going to get any better. Sorry! Well, hope you enjoyed this. **

**I live for reviews!**


	9. The Game (Part Three)

**The Game: Part Three**

Loki didn't like sports. Actually 'didn't like' wasn't strong enough. He simply _could not make himself like them_. He made an effort for Fenrir, who'd always loved physical activity more than he, but he just couldn't spontaneously become a fan.

Which is why seeing four tickets to the end of year football game on Friday morning was so confusing.

(But we'll get to how we got_ there _in a moment)

THREE DAYS AGO

Jor cursed angrily. _Goddamned air conditioner! _They'd long since gotten the old one replaced, but he was convinced her could revamp this old one. Of course, being Jor, the half-snake with the worst luck in the world, he crushed his thumb under the pump. He hopped around and swore for a while before giving the AC a kick, just to show it how much it sucked, and went back upstairs. He thought nothing of his thumb until the next morning.

When he woke up, willing to burn his alarm clock alive simply for existing, he noticed his thumb and let out an even louder curse. It was mottled black and blue. He suddenly wished he had less pride and more healing talent. The best he could do was put Band-Aids on shit. Now, he was stuck with a possibly broken thumb. He sighed and put on his make-up: his usual thick black eyeliner and skinny jeans tight enough to wonder if he'd ever have kids (or eggs. You never know: there might be the perfect snake out there…) while reflecting that it really had been a long time since he last got to be in his natural form.

He picked up a pen and post it and painfully wrote out 'ask dad about Kure Island'. And he just _had _to be different and not be left-handed, like the rest of them. He made a last minute decision to put on some netted gloves to cover the bruising inconspicuously. He went downstairs just as Loki was saying: "Out! Out! You're late!" He picked up his wallet and gave Loki a mock salute.

School that day was absolute torture. As the day went by, it became harder and harder for him to take notes to the point where he just said screw it and stopped bothering. At the end of the day, on the bus home (he could teleport, but there was something satisfying about being one with the crowd) he took off his right glove. His thumb was less white than black/blue/purple. He put the glove back on painfully and drowned out the usual chatter with his iPod.

It took Sleipnir three hours to notice.

It took him two days to get Jor to slow down and go to the hospital.

So for the next two weeks, Jor was confined to a half-cast that pissed him off royally. Hela soaked in every minute of it, and even got pictures when he wasn't looking.

During the time that Jor broke his thumb, Fenrir was at Dunn's1 Diner with Freya, Sigyn, Hela, Joss, Leo, Balder and Freyr. He twirled the straw thoughtfully as he waited for the inevitable. There was no way that something wasn't going to slip, which would lead to the questions, which would lead to the awkward 'well yes, I am the football captain! But please, do go on about those shoes you saw last Sunday'. And of course, the inevitable happened.

"Sorry Joss, it sounded like you were saying Fen's the captain of the football." Hela gave a devious smile. "Well, yes, he is." Joss said, confused. Hela gave him a questioning look. "Do you wanna talk about this at home, Helly?" he asked hopefully. "You don't have the right to call me 'Helly' until you tell me what's going on here." She snapped. The chatter quieted. "Hela? Can we talk about this at home?" he played the puppy dog eyes for all he was worth. "Let's go. I'll call you tomorrow, Sigyn." She gave both the girls a quick hug and picked up her purse with more frostiness than most experience in a lifetime. He gulped and put 911 on speed dial.

The thrashing was no worse than expected.

She slammed the door to door to the house and, after a quick check to make sure it was empty, turned and gave him a look that would make Frost Giants weak at the knees. "So when were you going to tell me you're on the football team?" she asked with forced calmness. "Before or after I made a fool of myself looking for you in the bleachers this Friday?" "Hela, I'm sorry. But please—" "You still haven't answered my question." She interrupted. "I wanted to tell you before the game." He muttered. "Do you have any idea how _stupid _you made me look? I don't even know that my own brother is on the football team, but my best friend knows!" she yelled. "It's—" "It is _not okay, Fenrir Lokison! _This never happens again!" she shouted. He nodded.

"Good. Do you want to tell dad?" she asked without any of the previous heat. "No, I wanted to surprise him. Which is why I didn't tell you." He explains himself. "Ah. Not a bad idea. But when your sister is going to be a cheerleader, you tell her." "Sorry." He mumbled. "Now I need help with my back hand spring." She led him to the backyard and Fenrir reflected on how much his sister owned him.

(Now, back to Friday morning)

Loki picked up the tickets and examined them carefully. He would have asked Hela, but they were already at school. He didn't want to be in his daughters bad books: though technically he was the parent, Hela had all four males in the house wrapped around her little finger and everybody knew it. In addition, she had a special talent for ignoring people she didn't want to deal with, regardless of who they were.

Just when things can't get any more confusing, the phone rang. "Hello?" Loki picked up the phone.

"BROTHER!" Thor boomed.

**That is the wrath of Damelia! Comment or you won't get the next chapter! LOL, just kidding. You'll get it in a couple of days. March Break means I don't have to work at such an insane pace, thank the gods. I hope you enjoyed this! The next will be the last part of The Game. Sad to see it go, but this was fun. I might do stories in parts like this again, I enjoyed it. **

**Comment and you'll get the next chapter even sooner!**


	10. The Game (Part Four)

**I hope you enjoy this! The next will be the last part of The Game. Sad to see it go, but this was fun. I might do stories in parts like this again, I enjoyed it. **

Loki pulled the phone away from his ear by a few inches. "What do you want, Odinson?" and now you see where he puts all his Frost Giant energy. "Are you going to the game tonight?" Jane – Thor's mortal lover, if he's not mistaken – asked. "How do you know about it?" he questioned suspiciously. "My niece told me!" Jane giggled. "Yes, I will be going." He said blandly. "So does that mean we can pick you up at six?" the phone was once again stolen by Darcy. "I don't think—" "Good. See you then." He heard the sound of an air kiss, Jane's shocked voice, Thor's booming laugh, and the phone was hung up.

The trickster sighed and resigned himself to an evening of football with his adopted older brother. It's possible this realisation was what led him to start a small fire in the basement, but if anyone were to ask, it was a spell gone wrong.

'Nervous' didn't quite explain Fenrir's situation. He struggled to focus on his schoolwork, but he somehow doubted anybody was actually listening. It was the last day of school; everybody was just dying for the chance to leave. In fact, when that bell rang 3:00 p.m., there was going to be a stampede of people (and a few demi-gods) running for home and then at 6:30, the football field. Fenrir and Hela were not going to be a part of that crowd. Fenrir still held on to the impossible possibility that he could surprise Loki, so he and Hela would be staying after school, practically vibrating with nervousness.

Uncharacteristically, Thor showed up right on time. Loki scowled, and cursed his Midgardian lover for being so punctual. He opened the door and tried to act pleasant. Little time was spent on noticing such trivial things as acting. "Loki, brother! Where are my niece and nephews?!" Thor thundered with an all-consuming bear hug. Loki tried to unbury himself from the mass of muscle and blond hair that was Thor.

"Not home yet." And with that, in walked Jor and Sleipnir. "Jormungandr! Sleipnir!" Thor wrapped them all up in hugs as well. Loki tried—he really did—but damn it, the way Jor and Sleipnir's eyes lit up could have melted the hardest heart. "Sorry about him, you know what he's like…" Jane tried to apologise for Thor's generally boisterous behaviour. "We grew up together. I think I can handle him." Loki smiled and lo and behold, Darcy Lewis entered!

Not a heartbeat after Thor released the boys; they were transplanted in to Darcy's arms. "Jor…what are you doing…in a long-sleeved shirt." Darcy demanded. "You know what, don't even explain. This must be fixed." She pulled him by his collar up the stairs. Loki didn't even bat a lash. "Sleipnir, where are your siblings?" he asked. "They're still at school. Hela got nervous and Fen decided to stay with her." And _here _is where Loki's ability to pick up a lie gets confused. What Sleipnir said was technically true; therefore, Loki didn't pick it up.

_I'm in my house for ten seconds and I'm already having my fashion critiqued. For god's sake, I'm gay _and _I'm a demi-god! I'm supposed to dress better than she does! _Jor thought to himself as Darcy went through his closet. "You don't own a single short-sleeved shirt." She concluded after a moment. Jor gave her an open smile. "I am wearing a cast, you know." He said, pulling his right sleeve up fractionally. Both of his arms were littered with scars, wrist to shoulder. "You and I are going shopping together, kid. You need to be ready for summer. You can't be all vampire come July." She chided him. When they got downstairs, the crowd of demi-gods and astrophysicists had moved to the kitchen.

"Loki Laufeyson, your son's wardrobe is drastically lacking in anything appropriate for North American summer." Darcy informed him as soon as they walked in. He threw Jor a glance. "What makes you say that? I've seen him in shorts before." Loki said. "He doesn't own a single short-sleeved shirt!" she exclaimed, scandalised. "Jor has my complexion. Surely you understand the woes of pale skin, Darcy." Loki threw back. Darcy sighed and gave it up. _You can't fucking argue with this guy…_ she thought to herself, annoyed.

Hela fought the irrational urge to tuck her tail between her legs and run home. Ten minutes. She put her hair in pigtails, hands trembling. Freya was worse off than she was. Hela forced a smile on her face and helped Freya put her red-blond curls in to a ponytail. "We'll be fine." She assured Freya and herself. Amora Carson (whom Hela would always hold a grudge against) rounded up the girl, wearing identical uniforms of red and gold, school colours. "Girls, I don't need to tell you how important this game is to everybody. But really? Just relax. We've practiced this routine like, a thousand times, and we're going to do great." And still, Hela couldn't deny that it was an effective pep talk. She just hoped her brother was holding up.

He really wasn't.

He paced the locker room, the air basically crackling with nervous energy. He felt his shoulder being tapped and his face was crushed in to somebody else's, possibly an attempt at a spontaneous kiss. The unknown kisser pulled back and Sigyn offered him a lopsided grin. Not saying a word, she skipped back to the cheerleaders, pompoms emitting a shaking sound with every stride. While his stomach was still churning, Fenrir had the sudden feeling that things were going to turn out right.

Lucky for him, because the players were rushed out in to the field that very moment.

"Where's your brother?" Loki quietly asked Jor. "I don't know." He offered cryptically. "It doesn't work, Jor. You know this. Where's Fenrir?" he asked again. He pointed downwards and Loki's sharp eyes followed the finger just as the home team ran out in to the field. Then he saw a blond boy in a red jersey advertising the number ten in gold and in smaller letters, Lokison. He looked from Thor to Sleipnir to Jor as soon as it clicked.

He'd never tell, but he was cheering just a little louder.

Fenrir looked through the bleachers, and finally saw Jor (he stuck out like a sore thumb at the best of times) and consequentially, Loki. Loki gave him a smile and a small, nearly imperceptible nod that meant _yes; you're doing fine, keep doing what you're doing. _Fenrir didn't bother to supress his grin and as the game begun, eh could have sworn he heard Loki cheering.

Meanwhile, Hela was smirking as she was thrown from Sigyn and Freya's shoulders in to a basket catch. As she was falling, Loki gave her the same smile she'd given Fenrir. Somehow, it made her feel that much better.

Jane and Thor gave a secret high-five for a mission accomplished.

**And that's a wrap, folks! Thanks for sticking around! I have full intentions for the next part to take place in a tropical environment, such as Punta Cana…maybe Jamaica…**


	11. Kure Island

**Wow. I'm sorry it's been so long: I just got back from the West Coast and I'm moving soon, things are insane. But I promise slightly more regular updates….**

**Kure Island (or somewhere a couple of miles left of it)  
**"We're leaving." Loki announced at breakfast. Sleepily, Jor looked up from the cup of coffee he was nursing. "Excuse me?" he demanded. "We're going on vacation." He said. Jor blinked rapidly. "What?" The two of them looked to Hela, still dressed in pajamas, coming down the stairs. "Wake up your brothers." Loki tells them. Hela rushes back up the steps.

When she comes back, she has Sleipnir and Fenrir in tow. "What's this about leaving?" Sleipnir asked, somehow awake and calm as ever. "Going? Leaving? What? We just started school here, that's not fair! Dad, you promised that—" Fenrir started to argue but Loki waved his hands and Fenrir's speech was completely muted. "We're only leaving for a week." He returned Fenrir's ability to speak. Loki clicks around on his iPad and opens a link. The four of them stare down at the iPad: one in genuine surprise, one in horror, one in confusion and one in excitement.

"Cuba." they announced in never-to-be-repeated unison.

Sleipnir was surprised. He'd never been to Cuba, and it seemed like a reasonably okay place. Of course he'd looked in to the architecture because it was absolutely fascinating. He scrolled down the iPad and tried to find out more information. The resort was in Varadero, wherever that was. The pictures made it look like a lovely place, though perhaps a little bit too tourist oriented.

Jor was horrified. Cuba, a tropical resort. That meant short-sleeved shirts, swimming, intolerable heat and the risk of sunburn. A sunburn! He was absolutely appalled. Why would Loki force them to go to such a hellhole? The place looked like it was half made of plastic and there were _palm trees_!

Fenrir was confused. Why were they going to a resort? Why were they going on holiday? And what was this 'Varadero' the website was talking about? The images looked wonderful and inviting, Fenrir had always loved swimming and there was a fantastic swimming pool _and _a beach. He was excited, but still confused.

Hela was excited. Cuba, a tropical resort. This meant short-sleeved shirts, swimming, nearly intolerable heat and the possibility of a tan. A tan! She enjoyed warm environments, making summer her favourite season by far, and this place was hot all year round! Fantastic! And, as an added bonus, there were _palm trees!_

Loki observed his children's reactions. "We've got place tickets for January 18th." He said simply and continued to observe. Sleipnir allowed a small smile, Fenrir gave up his frown, Hela gave a small, excited shriek at the same time as Jor gave a choked noise. Hela wrapped him in an enormous hug (quite a feat for a skinny thirteen-year old) all the while not being able to say how excited she was.

The week leading up to the trip was, to say the least, interesting. Sleipnir kept his normal routine, and though he didn't say anything, Loki knew he was glad for a chance to leave. Fenrir grew more and more excited as the day drew closer and Hela wouldn't be caught without an enormous grin on her face at all times.

Jor, however, was less than impressed.

He protested silently with little pranks, the most harmful of them being blue hair dye in Hela's shampoo because she was just _so excited_ (and he paid dearly for that when Hela washed her hair), the least harmful being replacing decaffeinated coffee beans. He also went with pink hair and putting in black eye contacts instead of his natural green. All in all: Jor was pissed off and didn't want to deal with this.

Well, it was a bit more complicated than that.

He felt he didn't fit in his own skin: it wasn't one he preferred, to be honest. He wanted – more than anything – to be back in his normal form for a couple of days. In fact, a couple of hours would do it. Sleipnir and Fenrir were the only ones allowed to in the house because their forms wouldn't destroy the property. Jor's form? He would break the ceiling just changing, let alone being comfortable in it. A temper tantrum at the age of four had proven that.

"Uh…dad?" he asked. Loki was doing his most mundane task: making dinner. "Yes?" he turned away from the stove. "Do you remember Kure Island?" he shuffled a bit on his feet. "Of course I do. Though, technically it wasn't actually Kure Island itself, it was the island a couple of miles out—" "Yes, yes, formalities, formalities. Could I visit it for a couple of days?" he interrupted Loki, wanting to get the topic out of the way as soon as possible. "Is you schoolwork going alright?" Loki asked after a moment. "Reasonably enough, yes." He answered. "Three days." Loki informed him. When he turned around, Jor was already gone.

The island was not in fact a tourist inhabited island: it was pretty close to empty, save for a few odd people. And none came to the far side of the beach; they'd all heard the legends of a giant snake. It gave Jor a kind of sick pleasure to be that legend. He slipped off his clothing; silently thanking every god there was it was night, and revelled in the feeling of being comfortable in his own body. He took off any and all jewelry – being a giant snake was incompatible with earrings – and didn't waste a second changing. For a full minute, he just lay there, adjusting to this foreign familiarity.

He didn't change for the next two days.

Jor fell asleep and woke up as a snake. He mentally smiled to himself due to the lack of lips and went back to human shape, just for a couple of hours. He still had another day to enjoy this form. He was just stretching out in the golden sand, still naked as the day he was born, when he heard footsteps. _Oh, for god's sake. _

He stood up, angry. "What?" he demanded. "I'm Adam." Said a timid boy wearing a long-sleeved shirt despite the climate. "Adam, nice to meet you. I'm kind of naked and you're about to witness something absolutely horrifying if you don't leave now. Scram!" he snapped. He crossed his arms, despite not having anything to hide there.

"You have the same scars I do." Made him stop in his tracks. Adam took off his shirt and gave Jor his arms for inspection. Jor's mind felt like it had just been screwed open, hollowed out, and closed again. He didn't say a word: just spread his arms. "Six months." He whispered. "Three." Adam said; eyes downcast. Despite the nudity and possible strangeness of the situation, Jor gave the unknown boy a hug.

As for what else happened that night? Well, that's the business of a snake-boy and an islander.

**Interpret as you wish! Ehehehe, don't worry; I'm not done with Cuba just yet. **


	12. The Flight

**Hello everybody! I'm sorry it's been so long but many things have been happening. I'm moving in 22 days and sort of losing my mind over it plus some personal issues (notably boys being insufferable and confusing dicks) are spilling over. But I felt compelled to update. Pleas review – I freaking live for reviews. I can't promise faster updates, but I expect you should have Cuba finished before September. I'm leaving a wide berth so I don't disappoint anybody. **

**As you have probably also noticed, I deleted the chapter 'Promise'. After due consideration, I felt it was a very inaccurate description of eating issues. I based it off of a very unusual experience and I didn't want to insult anybody. **

When Jor came back from the island a couple of miles left of Kure Island (which was better known as Kure Island) everybody noticed a few things. First of all, he was cheery. Not even sarcastically cheery, he was practically Pollyanna. Second of all, he didn't flirt. Ever. With anything or anyone at all. It was like he'd simply forgotten that people could be flirted with. Third of all, he timidly began to wear short-sleeves. It was clear that he was uncomfortable in them, but he was trying.

So the day came when they left for Cuba and Jor was wearing a tank top. He was more proud of himself than the situation really warranted, but it was a big thing for him. Sleipnir gave him an encouraging smile as they entered the airport. "Are my ear piercings going to trip the metal detector?" Hela asked suddenly.

(Okay. So you're probably wondering why they're going through an airport like mere humans. Fenrir asked the same question and Loki replied "new experiences" leaving the blond considerably more confused than he was to being with.)

She had gotten her first ear piercing almost a month ago (courtesy of Jor's friend Kristina). Then, it occurred to Jor that he probably had enough piercings to give a metal detector an orgasm. "It might be best if you take them off." Loki suggested, not looking at Hela but at Jor, more specifically at the newest addition to his family of piercings, his eyebrow piercing. "Can you take them out yourself?" he asked her. She nodded. "Great. I can help you put them back in after security." He offered. They went off to the washrooms while Loki, Sleipnir and Fenrir checked in their luggage.

Standing in front of the mirror, he pulled out the seven earrings then the nose piercing. He put the backings on all of them and put them in the pocket of his jeans. The lip piercings came out easily and he debated if he really needed to take out the barbell in his tongue. Just to be safe, he did and also got the eyebrow piercing Loki hated so much. He made sure the backing was on all of them, not wanting to lose them. Hela was waiting for him, piercing-less. "You look weird without the piercings." She said finally. "You look weird without black hair." He said, giving her platinum locks a tousle.

The Lokisons (and Lokidottir) went through airport security without issue and Hela and Jor both had to supress a giggle when somebody had to go back and take off a piercing. They also boarded their flight without issue, except for a few glances towards Jor's arms that he pointedly ignored. He convinced himself that strangers would not take away his self-confidence. Occasionally, Sleipnir would touch his arm in an encouraging manner and while he would never admit it, he appreciated it.

And now, Hela is _bored_. She'd already seen all the movies the rather under-stocked entertainment system had to offer and was excited to get there but bored at the moment. Some twenty minutes later, Sleipnir picked up on this. "Hel?" he asked. "Hmmm?" she hummed, looking slowly towards him. "Can you fix this?" he handed her a light blue T-shirt with a tear in it, thread of a similar colour as the material and a needle.

"It thought you weren't supposed–" "Sh." Jor whispered from the seat behind them. "It's our personal opinion that if you can take over a plane using a sewing needle, you deserve the plane." Sleipnir clarified. With one paranoid glance at the aisle, she threaded the needle and began to stitch the tear. Sleipnir – contented that Hela would not drive herself mad with boredom – opened a sketchbook and drew a very detailed version of Loki frowning over his iPad.

Fenrir just slept.

**So? Reviews box is down there. **** Love you, and have a nice evening!**


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